


sun & moon

by guanlins (deliveryservice)



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: (yet) idk, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, i mean the high school only kind of plays out though, it's not a full blown high school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11791650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliveryservice/pseuds/guanlins
Summary: woojin gets set up on a blind date with his childhood enemy.





	sun & moon

**Author's Note:**

> this is unedited (i'm giving that warning now) so i apologize for any typos that you might find! i just needed a quick dose of 2park. (funny story, i'm actually in the process of writing a longer, more developed fic of them, and this is just a small drabble i did to get my writing juices flowing; this story will have no correlation with the one i'll post in the future.)
> 
> enjoy, and please give lots of love to these two!!! we love a tom and jerry couple.

**** It strikes as disappointing behavior when Woojin only realizes his mistake _after_ he’s seated on one of the stuffy chairs inside the nearest fast food joint near his high school, all dressed up in the most uncomfortable shirt he’s ever worn—it’s even _layered_ , which goes to show none of this was _his_ idea, as there is only one person who Woojin knows would wear layered shirts voluntarily—and his backpack filled to the brim with his uniform and his books. He should’ve known, after being friends with Im Youngmin for more than six months, that Youngmin would either be late, or lie about his presence at the ‘meet up’ he’d used as his favor; come to think of it, Woojin even regrets giving Youngmin a favor, because since when did treating him to burgers constitute as something to owe a favor for?

… Okay, so maybe that part was Woojin’s own fault for groveling over said food, but it isn’t as if the burgers cost enough for Woojin to go on a blind date over. A _blind_ date. Out of all the favours, which Youngmin could’ve used for Woojin to unveil the details of who’d taken his favourite alpaca plushie, he’d used it to persuade Woojin to go on a _blind_ date.

In Woojin’s weak defense, however, he’d assumed it would’ve been a double blind date, what with the way Youngmin picked out the clothes for Woojin as if he was picking out clothes for himself. Of all the people in his life, Youngmin was the last person Woojin expected to give him away like this, but then again, he can already hear Youngmin’s voice in his head when Woojin comes to him for answers later: “I’m just trying to help! You’re young, it’s about time you go and meet new people.” Not to mention, Youngmin hadn’t stopped hounding Woojin after the third month post _The Breakup_ (stylized as if it’s a movie title) and he’d realized, after doing an example of helicopter parenting and snooping through Woojin’s search history, that Woojin had spent three months checking on his ex boyfriend’s social media instead of ‘getting new numbers’, whatever that was supposed to mean.

So, maybe Woojin’s a not-so-secret romantic who doesn’t find it as easy to move on as it’d been for his ex (who, Woojin would admit begrudgingly, looks much happier now than he’d been with Woojin—though that might be attributed to the fact Hyungseob’s now dating _Euiwoong_ , their class president, and Woojin with his street dancing accomplishments can’t exactly measure up to Euiwoong and his perfect grades and unblemished student record), but it's not like he was about to mope for the rest of his life. He’s got more sense than that, really, no matter what his elders might think of him.

(“Go on one date,” Youngmin said, gripping onto Woojin’s shoulders, shaking him. It made for a comical sight, considering Woojin was impassive, and was moved around like a life-sized mannequin. “He’s a very nice boy. You’ll like him—besides, I owe my friend something, and the both of us thought it’d be… good, for the both of you.”

“Which friend are we talking about here?” Woojin frowned, never missing the way Youngmin’s adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, big eyes pointedly looking away from Woojin’s slanted ones. “Youngmin _hyung_.” Woojin didn’t have a good feeling about this; whenever Youngmin was nervous, it rarely ever bode well for the rest of them.

“Kim Donghyun,” Youngmin eventually answered, voice small considering the usual power it had behind. The engines in Woojin’s head whirred with life, and even at just the name, he immediately understood the older’s intentions behind him using Woojin, an innocent bystander who was just _healing_!, for his own gain.

“So, you’re basically using me to get in the good graces of your crush?” Woojin deadpanned, and backed away from Youngmin’s hold. “Why does he need to set someone up on a blind date, anyway,” he resumed, not bothering to await Youngmin’s response, “everyone has their reasons. Unless he’s also doing this to impress you.” The last bit might’ve been a little petty, sure, but how else was Woojin supposed to react, knowing the older brother figure in his life was using him for his love life?—though maybe he _was_ being too cruel, considering Youngmin, with his heart as big as his alpaca pictures folder on his phone, could’ve thought of this as a way to gain something for both himself in the form of a possible boyfriend, _and_ for Woojin by getting him over his ex.

Youngmin sighed, and ran a palm over his face. “I don’t know, okay? I didn’t ask. I just thought you wouldn’t have been so against it. Are you still that hung up over Hyungseob?” Woojin’s mood sours. “Come on, don’t… don’t give me that look. Woojin,” Youngmin said, this time gentle, “do you still have it bad for him?”

The smile that grew on Woojin’s mouth was more bitter than it was accepting. “Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” He ignored the guilt that painted Youngmin’s eyes, knowing it wouldn’t mean he’d let Woojin back out of their deal now. “Just pick out what I should wear,” he relented, and turned on his heels, already heading for the door. “If this wasn't a favor, you would owe me, big time.”)

In all honesty, the only reason why Woojin had grown less hostile of the thought of his blind date was because Youngmin, just a day before the meeting, told him he’d be going along with Woojin; adding Donghyun into the mix, too, but now it’s nearing the designated meeting time and in their just as designated meeting place, the only person Woojin recognizes is his own reflection in the mirror.

When he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, he draws it out, and glances at the message notification popping up on his lockscreen (a blurry picture of him and his dance team taken at the park during the dead of the night, but it’s the sentiments that count, and it has been his lockscreen for a total of three months—replacing his previous picture of him and Hyungseob at the amusement park.) 

youngmin hyung who is not a snake (15:58): this is really sudden but i can’t be there!!! i’m sorry!  
youngmin hyung who is not a snake (15:58): i have a rap workshop :(  
youngmin hyung who is not a snake (15:59): and donghyun got caught up with classes  
youngmin hyung who isnot a snake (15:59): but i hope you have fun! go get em, tiger!

The stream of messages end there, and Woojin’s tongue rolls over the inside of his cheek, with the feeling that teeters between annoyance and acceptance. It’s not as if he’d expected anything more, but there’s something different between expecting and actually receiving. Still, might as well make the best of it; at the very least, he’d finally be free of owing favors to Youngmin, and at the most, he might even be getting a new friend. And he needs all the friends he can get, considering even Daehwi, his best friend of _six_ years, even wrote him a reminder on his to-do list to ‘ _be more open and trusting to people, you can’t rely on me and Youngmin forever!_ ’, something Woojin grudgingly agrees with. Socializing isn’t his biggest forte.

Just as Woojin unlocks his phone and clicks on the thumbnail of a game, the restaurant’s doorbell jingles as it opens, and when Woojin raises his eyes, expecting to see yet another customer he isn’t familiar with, the exact opposite is what he receives—he even feels his grip slacken on his phone, and it nearly falls to the floor, had it not been for him realizing at the last minute and (after nearly jumping out of his seat from being so startled), bending down and catching his phone at the very last second, inches before the screen falls face down to the granite floor. That would’ve been a mess; even messier than Woojin’s current heart rate after his phone’s near-death experience.

“What the fuck,” against his own will, he says the words out loud, directing the eyes (more than a few judging) of the other customers of the joint. He blushes under the scrutiny, feeling the heat creep to his neck, forming a dark red patch. “Sorry.” Still, the words feel more like a daze, and Woojin blinks twice to make sure he isn’t hallucinating; is that _really_ who he thinks he is?

The figure that’d caused the most trouble Woojin has encountered in the whole day saunters towards Woojin’s table, and takes the empty seat right across Woojin’s, only separated by the little blue desk that holds Woojin’s tray of untouched french fries. He hasn’t even eaten one, noting his own manners to only eat after the other party has arrived, but the other party doesn’t seem to care, considering the first thing he does after being seated is _not_ to greet Woojin, instead taking a fry and pushing it towards the entrance of Woojin’s lips.

“You’re my blind date, aren’t you? Say _aaah_ ,” the boy prods, like he’s talking to a toddler, as he continues to push the fry at Woojin’s mouth. Not having much of a choice, Woojin follows his orders, and the boy makes a noise of victory as Woojin bites down on the fry. He releases his hold afterwards, wiping his salted fingers on the tissue from the tray.

“Park Jihoon?” Woojin says as he chews on his french fry, eyes widened in disbelief. He shakily points his index finger at the boy seated across him, who's now tilting his head at Woojin, an oblivious smile falling on his lips. “You’re Park Jihoon, right? From Moonlight Daycare?”

Jihoon (and don’t try to tell Woojin otherwise, because he’d recognize that eye shape _everywhere_ , even if you put him in a crowd with at least a hundred other people) blinks in a way that Woojin can only describe as dainty, as ridiculous as that might be. “You’re right!” Jihoon raises his thumb at Woojin, who isn’t shocked at the least by his admittance, “but who are you? I don’t think I remember you…” Jihoon taps his chin in a thinking position, tilting his head upwards, eyes fixated on the ceiling. Woojin tries to follow his gaze, but doesn’t find anything more interesting than a few gums somehow stuck on the ceiling, that might prove to be of interest because he's not sure if it’d be possible for gums to be stuck on ceilings.

“You… don’t remember me?”

“Not really, no,” Jihoon says innocently, completely oblivious (or ignoring, but if this Jihoon is still the same as the Jihoon that Woojin remembers, then it must’ve been ignoring) to Woojin’s disbelieving stare. “Why? Am I supposed to remember you? Wait, don’t tell me—did we do something like promise we’d get married when we were kids?”

“ _What_?” Woojin splutters, and chokes on his french fry. Jihoon looks on with pity, but makes no move to help. Yeah, this is _definitely_ the Jihoon that Woojin remembers. “You literally”—his voice drops to a whisper—“you stole my crayons! On the first day of daycare!”

Jihoon snaps his fingers together. “Ah! You’re _that_ kid!” He recognizes the person he’s eating with at last, and looks at him with something not unlike appraisal, which only serves to make Woojin stuff more food into his mouth; he’s stress eating. “I remember you now—you’ve definitely changed. I remember you used to be _this_ big.” He spreads his arms, and Woojin stops picking up his french fries at the reminder of his past figure. Then again, it’s not as if Jihoon was any better, considering he’d received nicknames as the daycare’s pig. (The only reason Woojin remembers is because Jihoon is the only person from the daycare worth remembering, but that’s not deep at all, okay? The kid version of himself _hated_ Jihoon’s crayon stealing guts with a fiery passion; nothing less, and nothing more. It’s not like he harbored a secret crush or something. Definitely not.)

“I don’t look that different,” Woojin protests, and slurps, almost angrily, from the straw of his soft drink.

“Of course you don’t,” Jihoon says, not sounding believing at all. “Fancy meeting you here, right? I didn’t think you’d be my blind date! How long has it been?”

That’s the last straw. Woojin removes the straw from his mouth and gapes, unabashedly, at Jihoon; after all those crayons he’d stolen and all the times he’d taken away Woojin’s lunch (here Woojin is turning a blind eye to his own fault of making it a habit to sneak away Jihoon’s strawberry milk, but in his defense, it’s not like Jihoon was innocent either!), here’s Park Jihoon, his childhood definition of a nightmare, sitting in front of him with a wide smile and open eyes as if they hadn’t made each other’s childhoods as miserable as a first world childhood could be.

“Years,” Woojin says, at last, after Jihoon’s brows begin to furrow after the long pause it’d taken for him to regain his wits. “It’s been years.” He lifts his drink from the table, takes a long sip, and slams it back down. It doesn’t make much of a noise, and Jihoon’s eyes never move from Woojin’s face, as if he’s finding something interesting about it; for the life of him, Woojin can’t think what it is, much less why. “You’re not going to order anything?”

“Oh, right! Knew I’d forgotten something,” Jihoon says, mostly to himself. “Anything you recommend?” He roams his eyes over the menu display over the counter used to order the food, and Woojin shakes his head, not that Jihoon would’ve seen it.

“Do I look like I’m the type to eat here?” Woojin grumbles.

“You do,” Jihoon responds, never missing a beat. He chuckles when Woojin doesn’t answer. “I thought you’d appreciate the honesty.”

Not that Woojin keeps track of his every past mishaps with Jihoon, but this reminds him, almost eerily, of that one time he’d brought his own cookies to daycare (he didn’t cook it himself, but he was the one to design it, laying on the frostings and sprinkles so heavily a batch could’ve given a grown man a stroke) and, after asking for Jihoon’s honest opinion on one of them, Jihoon plainly said (with a smile that screamed out happiness): “They’re too sweet. I bet my mom could make something like this better in her sleep. I thought you’d appreciate the honesty.”

“You haven’t changed at all,” Woojin mumbles from his seat, and draws a heavy sigh. A glance at the clock shows it’s barely been five minutes since the beginning of their ‘date’, and Woojin already wants to talk Youngmin’s ear out for using his favor for this. A blind date is one thing, but a blind date with your childhood enemy is on another scale entirely.

He nearly jumps when Jihoon slaps his hands onto the table, resulting in a loud noise that draws the eyes of more than a few other patrons. “I’ve figured out what I want to order,” Jihoon says. “Order me the chicken nugget package,” he directs this to Woojin, who looks like he’d rather be stuck in detention than here. “I want the lemon tea, with no ice. My throat’s not in the best condition.”

“Go get it yourself. I’m not your lackey.” Though Woojin reaches to take a fry, he finds his fingers meeting air; Jihoon had taken the last one earlier. (And to think the date just keeps getting better and better.)

“No, you’re not,” Jihoon agrees, “but you’re my date.”

“The fuck does that have to do with this?”

“Oh, but Woojin, it has _everything_ to do with this,” Jihoon says solemnly, and begins to show the conniving, manipulative side of him that’s definitely been honed since the last time Woojin encountered it when the both of them were seven and had barely grown into their boots. “You should be a gentleman and make a good impression on your date! I mean, you wouldn’t want me to put in a bad word for you to Donghyun _hyung_ , right? Could you imagine how that’d reflect on Youngmin _hyung_?”

Woojin glares at Jihoon, and when he stands up, he pushes his chair back with the force he uses. “Don’t bring them into this,” he warns, but makes a move towards the counter anyways. Woojin tries not to look at Jihoon’s smug smile, because his mood is already the most agitated it has been for the past _week_ , and that’s saying something, considering his confrontation with Youngmin was three days ago; and that had been a new low, at least, until now. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“You’re taking a long time to order the food, you know that?” Jihoon returns cheekily, and waves Woojin off when he stalks towards the counter, irritation simmering off him in waves. 

This is even _worse_ than those crayons, and Woojin thought he was over those, at least, until he found himself reunited with the person he’d spent his childhood years stressing over. (No lie, one time, he’d gotten so annoyed over Jihoon taking away his sandwich that he’d forgotten to study for his mathematics quiz for school, at the daycare; it’d resulted in his first flunked grade, and to this day, Woojin _still_ feels a slight of bitterness over it.)

“What would you like to order?” The waitress asks, with forced perkiness that makes Woojin wonder how many customers have annoyed her today, despite the fact there’s nothing she could actually do about it without losing her job; that’s the bad part about working in the fast food industry, and Woojin speaks of this from his experience of working at McDonalds for two months before getting fired for pouring a drink over an aggravating customer’s head.

“I’ll have the chicken nuggets package, please. With non-iced lemon tea,” he recites Jihoon’s order, feeling dead inside as he does. He thought he was already emancipated from Park Jihoon and his terrible, manipulative antics, but for some reason, he’s still doing this, even when he’s on the cusp of adulthood.

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” he adds the ‘thank you’ after almost forgetting it (much to his own shame, considering that’d been one of the things he’d appreciated during the short few months he’d worked in McDonalds), and returns the smile the waitress sends him. He pays the allotted amount of money, and steps off to the waiting line, leaving the customer behind him to order.

When the waitress puts down his (technically Jihoon’s) orders on a tray, she asks, “Is that your boyfriend you’re here with?” She eyes Jihoon, who’s currently sitting alone, playing with his thumbs on top of the table. If Woojin didn’t have a personal vendetta against him (previously died out but it’s been rekindled now, what joy!), he’d even think it was cute. But he _does_ have something personal against Jihoon, so, it’s not cute. Totally isn’t.

“I’d rather date a dirty closet,” Woojin says in return, and hugs the tray close to his chest. He nods to her as a farewell, and walks back to his and Jihoon’s table, setting down the tray filled with food in front of Jihoon. “Are you going to pay back the money for that, or are you going to assume I bought it for you?”

“Well, you didn’t ask for my money when you walked over there, so I thought you bought it out of the goodness of your heart,” Jihoon chirps, and beams up at Woojin. “Thanks!”

Woojin sits back down on his chair, readjusting a few times to make himself as comfortable as one possibly can when a seat’s made out of cheap plastic. “You’re unbelievable,” he scoffs, although he can’t fight off the smile that threatens to break out on his lips. Thankfully, Woojin manages to keep himself in reign just a few seconds after the slightest twitch on the corner of his lips, but judging by the way Jihoon’s eyes are looking at him, the other hadn’t missed it.

“So, want to know the real reason why I’m out here?” Jihoon suddenly says, teeth biting on hisstraw that rests from the corner of his mouth.

“If you’re offering,” Woojin figures, “I have a hard time believing you'd need to have someone scope out dates for you.”

It’s like admitting the water is wet, the sky is blue, and the grass is green: Jihoon’s the textbook definition of a pretty boy, the furthest opposite of whatever Woojin's looks would classify as, and to think that he’d have to get someone to set him up on a blind date just to meet someone is all sorts of wrong. Though Woojin doesn’t know _why_ anyone would want to date Jihoon knowing the other as more manipulative and cunning than the angelic façade his features let on, there must’ve been more than a few boys and girls who could’ve proved to be either oblivious to the predatory personality that lurks behind Jihoon’s deer-like persona, or perhaps, wouldn’t have cared at all. Some people, after all, are into the weirdest things.

“I needed to meet someone who went to the local high school,” Jihoon admits, and releases the straw from his mouth, only to start biting at the edges of his nugget. Woojin resists the urge to take one, repeating the words, _I’m not Jihoon_ , _I’m not Jihoon, I’m not Jihoon_ , in the recluse of his headspace. “I’m transferring next week, and I don’t want to be _that_ new kid who shows up in the middle of term with no friends.”

“You’re moving back here?” The last time Woojin saw Jihoon, the other was giving his goodbyes to the daycare, for his family was due to move outside the country; although Jihoon gave out candy to the other kids, Woojin still remembers how he’d given Woojin one of his crayons back. The red one, because it was Jihoon’s least favourite colour. Woojin doesn’t know where the crayon is anymore; probably long gone, though.

“If it weren’t obvious enough, I am.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink, bending his head down to move closer to the table rather than using his hand to lift up his drink. “Though I thought I’d have to charm someone into it, you’ll make do. Saves me the time from having to woo you, too.”

“Hold the—were you actually going to _seduce_ someone just so you wouldn’t have to be alone at school?” Woojin splutters, suddenly glad he doesn’t have anything to eat, much less he would’ve choked on it. Again.

“It wouldn’t have gone as far as seduce,” Jihoon mumbles, almost sulking as he gives Woojin a pout and lays on the cute factor; Woojin blames it on Jihoon’s face, not because he thinks Jihoon is cute, or something. That’d be the day. “But you’ve saved me from that trouble, right? It’d be like spending time with an old friend!” Jihoon brightens up immediately, and Woojin resists the urge to slam his palm into his face.

“Jihoon, we weren’t friends.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jihoon denies, “if we weren’t friends, then I wouldn’t have given you the crayon! Wasn't it a peace offering?”

“You gave me the crayon because you hated red.”

Jihoon pouts, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “You’re no fun,” he whines.

Fire alarms begin to ring in Woojin’s head, loud enough to give him a mild headache even though the noises only come from his mind. “Are you… Jihoon, are you using _aegyo_ on me?”

“It doesn’t work on you?” He stops pouting immediately, and his arms go back to the table, face scrunching in confusion. “That’s weird. I thought it worked on everyone.”

“Then you should’ve thought twice before using it on someone who stole crayons from.” Woojin scoffs, and takes a look at the time. Only a few minutes left until half an hour would’ve passed since their date, and it’d be the starting of the appropriate time for him to leave and ditch Jihoon, placing him in a category as far away from his life once and for all. (Alright, maybe not once and for all, considering Jihoon’s going to the same school as him, but Woojin would rather have the extra time now.)

“Woojin, I thought you would’ve gotten over it,” Jihoon says, and looks at Woojin through his lashes. “I mean, you don’t see me bringing up all the times you took my strawberry milk.”

Unable to defend himself, for it was true, Woojin shifts in his seat. His backside is starting to ache, tailbone feeling the beginning of a sore type of pain.

“I think it’s about time we start over,” Jihoon concludes, looking so proud of his own words that he grows the galls to lean back on his seat. “I know we started _and_ ended on the wrong foot—”

“Understatement of the year.”

“—but, I think if we decided to push aside our childhood differences, we’d be able to get along!” He visibly deflates at Woojin’s raised brow. “We both have our own faults, and we’re going to the same school soon, so why not just let bygones be bygones and start all over again?”

The intent behind the apology is clear as day, of course. Woojin knows, better than anyone, how slippery Jihoon can be; he doesn’t really do something without thinking it through, and everything he does has a reason. Jihoon is the last person who would ‘start over’ for no reason but the goodness of his heart, and the only reason why he’s even offering the apology is because he expects Woojin to hang out with him before he finds himself new friends to latch onto in high school; but this is the closest Woojin will ever get to an apology, and he would be lying if he said he’d never once thought about the possibility of being… friends, with Park Jihoon.

“Alright,” Woojin says, at last. “But I have my conditions,” he adds, as if they’re talking of serious business matters.

“Name your price,” Jihoon says, playing along with Woojin’s solemnity. The atmosphere grows considerably lighten between the two of them; the heaviness that’d hung in the air disperses, and some of the burden that’d been on Woojin’s chest feels lifted, especially as he opens his mouth and lets the words tumble out.

“First of all, you’re going to tell me what happened to the rest of my crayons.” Although Jihoon bites his cheeks, his shoulders begin to quiver, as if he’s on the verge of laughing. Knowing Jihoon, he probably is. “And, if Donghyun or Youngmin _hyung_ ever ask you how the date went, you’ll say something… nice. Something that won’t make Youngmin try to set something up like this for me ever again.” He shudders at the thought of having to go on another blind date, because if he’s having a difficult enough time with someone he actually knows, he can’t even begin to imagine how bad it’d be if Woojin were to be set up with an utter stranger.

“Call!" Jihoon readily agrees, and sticks out his hand. Woojin, though unsure of Jihoon’s intentions, grips it with his, letting Jihoon shake their hands together. “Pleasure doing business with you.” This time, when Jihoon smiles, Woojin doesn’t force himself to keep his own smile at bay. Friends smile at each other, don’t they? And, considering their newly minted apologies, Woojin would say he’s got another to add to his collection. 

“So, what happened to my crayons?” Woojin asks once he retracts his hand, wiping it on his pants. Nothing personal, but he just doesn’t want the grease that'd been on Jihoon’s fingers to linger. 

Jihoon grins, sending chills racing down Woojin’s spine. He doesn’t like the look of it. “I don't know. I think they got lost in the boxes while I was moving,” he says, and continues to eat his food, completely guilt free. He's probably made peace with it years ago. “Now, my turn to ask the question. Why was Youngmin _hyung_ so desperate in setting you up on a date?”

“He was desperate?”

“Sure sounded like he was." Jihoon shrugs, cheeks puffed and stuffed with nuggets. “That’s the impression I was getting when he was so enthusiastic responding to Donghyun _hyung_ ’s offer. So, tell me.”

“You never made that question a part of the deal,” Woojin says, trying to avoid the question, though judging by the hungry look in Jihoon’s eyes—hungry for information to torment Woojin with in the future, most likely—that’s not likely. “Fine,” he gives up, and sighs, dropping his gaze to his lap. “He thinks I haven’t gotten over my ex.”

Jihoon snorts, and not very quietly, either. “What, did he find out you were stalking their Instagram or something?” At the silence, Jihoon’s jaw drops. “… Woojin, buddy—”

“I was just curious!” Woojin defends himself, feeling like it’d be better to be swallowed by the ground rather than tell his story to his childhood enemy, no matter how chummy they’re supposed to be now. “I mean, I’ve accepted the breakup. It was on mutual terms, I’m cool with it. I just… get curious, you know,” he says, as he shrinks into himself, trying to avoid Jihoon’s stern glare.

“We’ll have to fix that.”

“ _We_?”

Park Jihoon, thinking of somebody other than himself? That’s certainly a first.

“I’m not going to have my friend known as a moping fool,” Jihoon says, sniffing at the air, chin turnt up to the roof. “That kind of reputation could soil mine, too.”

Ah, _that_ figures.

(If Woojin notices the flicker of genuine concern that filters through the makeshift pride in Jihoon’s eyes, he doesn’t say anything about it.)

“What do you suggest I do, then? Go on more blind dates?”—Woojin can spy the beginning of a plan forming in Jihoon’s head from a mile away—“I’m not going to go on more blind dates, Jihoon. Forget it. No, I mean it, don’t even bother to set me up with one of your friends!”

“Alright, alright!” Jihoon raises his hands in surrender. “I mean, it’s not like I would’ve seriously suggested that, it would’ve been redundant.”

“Exactly! Wait, what?” There’s something that’s not right about the wording. “Redundant?” Woojin asks, suspicion gnawing in the pits of his stomach.

Jihoon tilts his head at him, and his teeth stick out, beginning to gnaw on the bottom of his plump, pink lips. Woojin stubbornly fixes his eyes on Jihoon’s forehead, devoid of any blemishes whatsoever, polished as a painting. “Are you having a bad time?”

“Not… really? I mean, I was, but it’s not like I’m dying to get out of here anymore.”

“Then would you be up for a second date?” Jihoon proposes boldly, and offers his last nugget to Woojin the same way a child would propose marriage with a ring pop. Woojin splutters, and begins to cough, to the point Jihoon puts down his nugget to offer Woojin his drink instead. Woojin snatches the drink from Jihoon’s hands, taking the straw to his lips and sips on the drink, for once grateful about Jihoon’s choice to order it ice free. “See, we’ve even indirectly kissed now! A second date wouldn’t be too bad, right?” Woojin makes sure to store the drink away and gulp down the liquid he has in his mouth first before gaping at Jihoon, but once he does, he does it with the grace of someone who has just been hit on by the very person they’d just made friends with less than ten minutes ago. That goes to say, no grace at all.

“Jihoon, are you really hitting on me? What the fuck,” Woojin breathes, his state of disarray a complete 180 to Jihoon, who’s watching him with a content grin. “Is this a prank? Am I here for some kind of social experiment?”

A tinkering laugh tumbles out of Jihoon’s lips, and he covers up his mouth with his hands. “Woojin, is it that hard to believe I’m just asking you out for another date?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“I came in here expecting a date, so I treated it as one, even if it’s you,” Jihoon says, simply, as if that explains everything. To be honest, it does clear up some of Woojin’s doubts, but being easily accepting isn’t a part of Woojin’s dictionary.

“Even if? You’re not really doing yourself any favors here.”

“At least let me finish, Woojin.” Chastised, Woojin keeps his mouth shut. “Point is, I'm not having the worst time of my life, and you aren’t either, so. If this was our first date, why not have another?”

“Do you just make it a habit of yours to hit on the people you have blind dates with? Even when you’ve just made up with them on the date? After years of bitter rivalry?” If it were possible to have questions marks on someone’s face, Woojin’s would’ve been filled with an abundance.

“Of course not!” Jihoon actually sounds offended, crossing a palm over his heart. “I don’t know what you think of me, and I might be over all of my exes, but I don’t make it a habit to hit on every breathing creature. The last time I was on a blind date, I gave my date a fake number, too; I would’ve done that to you, if I was having a bad time.”

“Difference is, I wouldn’t have wanted your number anyway,” Woojin quips, but instead of being offended like any rational person would, Jihoon chuckles. “I just—listen, Jihoon, we’ve only settled our differences today. Asking for another date immediately just seems… weird, I don’t know.” Woojin runs his hand over his hair, further messing up what was already a mess.

“I don’t see why that should be much of a problem,” Jihoon continues to argue for his cause, and much to Woojin’s own horror, he’s not even finding this whole situation plainly ridiculous. A small (very small) part of him actually wants to _listen_. “I’m not even asking you to be my boyfriend, Woojin. Just another date. See where things go and everything.”

In contrast to Woojin’s past relationship experience, where it’d taken him a total of six months to gather the balls to ask Hyungseob out on _one_ date to the movies (where in the end they’d been interrupted by a gaggle of Hyungseob’s friends who’d been at the right place at the right time), Jihoon isn’t shy at all when it comes to showing his interest in someone; in a way, that intrigues Woojin, if only because he can’t relate to that kind of boldness at all. Where Woojin is all hidden courage and silent admiration, Jihoon doesn’t hesitate in taking a step forward, even when rejection looms over his head.

Maybe Woojin could stand to learn something like that from him. _It’s just a date,_ Woojin reminds himself in his head, just because he needs that kind of reminder. _It’s not like you’re signing yourself up for a dowry, Woojin. I mean—okay,_ fuck _, it is ridiculous to have a date with your childhood enemy, but he's not exactly_ wrong. _There’s not much harm a second date could do. Besides, if anything goes wrong, just ditch him at school. Yeah, that’s it. Ditch him at school_ , because apparently, that’s the most Woojin can do if anything ever goes wrong between him and Jihoon. Woojin, no matter how much of an intimidating impression he might form on someone, could never gather the strength to actually do harm to anyone; even if it’s Park Jihoon.

“Fine,” Woojin relents, finally, and pretends he doesn’t see the broad grin on Jihoon’s face. It’s easier to pretend like he still doesn’t care about Jihoon rather than admit full-out that a small part of him feels warmth for being the reason of Jihoon’s grin. “But just one date, right?”

“Yeah, one date. I’m thinking about sometime after school next week. Maybe you could take me class skipping.” At Woojin’s look of audacity, Jihoon is quick to add, “I was kidding! I care about my grades, you know. Not that it does much to raise them up, but I do care. Just buy me some ice cream after school, that wouldn’t be a bad second date idea, right?”

“I guess." Frankly, Woojin doesn't know what constitutes as a good second date idea, much less a bad one. Hyungseob had been his one and only experience in the world of dating. “Hey, you offered me a nugget. Can I have one?” Anything to steer the topic away from their date, apparently, because Woojin doesn’t know what he’ll do if he were to face another moment confronting the fact he’d reunited, reconciled, _and_ got a date with his childhood enemy all in one day. A wild day, that’s what this is.

“Huh?” Jihoon blinks, before realizing what Woojin means. “Oh! Sure thing. Open your mouth.” When Woojin stubbornly keeps his mouth shut, Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll eat it myse—”

“ _Aaah_!" Woojin opens his mouth immediately, inwardly hating how susceptible he is to food; still, it pays off, because the nugget that Jihoon stuffs in his mouth tastes good and the right amount of salty, if a little soggy. He chews on it obediently, and wipes away the oil from his lips with the other tissue that hadn’t been used. “We’ve finished our food now. What next?”

“I go home,” Jihoon responds easily, and though he moves to sip from his drink, he finds that it’s already empty. Sighing, he shakes the plastic container, frowning when he finds it’s all ice. In a form of camaraderie, Woojin quietly pushes his still quarter-filled drink towards Jihoon, who accepts it with a small smile. “Returning the favor. That’s nice of you.”

Woojin attempts to will away the tinge of pink on his cheeks, to no avail. “You won’t get lost, heading home alone?”

“Aw, is this your attempt of offering to walk me home? Adorable,” Jihoon coos, and lets out a short cackle. “But, to answer your question, I’ll be fine. I’ve been living here for three weeks, I know my way around.”

“Walking you home wouldn’t have been romantic or anything,” Woojin mumbles, although he’s not sure if he can believe his own words. “Just wanted to make sure you’d have gotten back safe, but, that’s nice to know.”

“You’re growing soft on me already. See? This isn’t going to be so bad.”

“Who said I was going soft?”

Jihoon tsks. “No need to get yourself worked up over that,” he says, and stands up from his seat, but not before prolonging a palm at Woojin. “Give me your phone.” Confused, Woojin moves his phone from his pocket to Jihoon’s opened hand with slow movements; still, Jihoon doesn’t waste any time in punching in some digits inside Woojin’s phone, and hands back Woojin’s smartphone less than a minute later. “Now you have my number. My _real_ number, mind you.” 

A look at the glowing screen of his phone reads out the contact number Jihoon saved himself as: _Jihoon who owes me a second date ♡_

“A heart, really?” Woojin asks impassively, but doesn’t make a move to change the contact name. It’s not because he’s attached to it or anything, it’s just that it’d be a bother. Right. That was all. 

“It’s a cute touch,” Jihoon breezily says, and moves his fingers in a wave. “I’ll see you! Don’t forget to text me, I don’t have your number saved.”

Woojin returns the wave, though notably smaller. “Alright.”

“Second date, okay? Remember. Second date. You owe me one.”

“But here it says _you’re_ the one who owes me a second date.” Woojin shows his screen to Jihoon, who laughs as he continues to inch himself towards the exit of the restaurant, getting further and further every second.

“I’ll see you!” Jihoon chooses to say instead, and waves one last time, before he turns around and walks out the restaurant door. 

Woojin doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until his cheeks begin to ache.

 

* * *

 

 

“So? How’d the date go? I’m really sorry I couldn’t come but it couldn’t have been that bad, right?” The voice on the other end crackles, due to the poor connection that has become a common occurrence for the residents of Woojin's neighbourhood.

“… It wasn’t terrible," admits Woojin reluctantly, letting himself fall onto the soft cushion of his bed. He lays there, on his back, glancing up at the roof with his phone pressed to his ear.

“Really? I told you you were going to have fun, didn’t I?” Youngmin sounds triumphant, and before he can get any further ideas, Woojin makes sure he sneaks a few words in.

“Yes, you did, but that doesn’t mean I’m going on any more blind dates for you in the future, Youngmin hyung.” Good thing he doesn't owe the other any more favors, Woojin figures to himself, as he settles the phone down next to his head, and props himself up onto his elbow just to get his other hand's thumb to set the phone on loudspeaker.

“Well, if you hit it off with this one, then you might never need to go on any kind of da—” 

“Nope, don’t even finish that sentence, that’s too forward! Goodnight!” Before Youngmin has the chance to add in more of his thoughts regarding the situation that is Woojin's blossoming love life, Woojin has already rushed to end the call, and proceeds to turn his phone face-down onto the bed. He doesn't even want to see the text messages that he'll receive from Youngmin in a few more minutes, probably all boasting about his 'matchmaking skills' and how he should listen more to Youngmin instead of being a 'grouchy junior', or how he should be more cheerful and peppy, kind of like Daehwi. (Ha, Woojin being as peppy as Daehwi; that would be the day.) 

The first time his phone chimes, Woojin deigns to ignore it, closing his eyes and keeping them shut; but, when it continues to chime even after the designated five post-call messages that Youngmin makes a habit of sending, Woojin picks up his phone, and lifts it right in front of his eyes. Though it takes him a moment to adjust to the brightness and another one to squint, he immediately sits up as soon as he registers the messages, and, as much as he’d love to admit it, biting back the grin that threatens to surface onto his lips.

jihoon who still owes a date (17:38): so, school’s tomorrow! :D  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:40): don’t forget about our second date  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:41): or else i’m going to throw away your crayons  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:41): (yes i found them in one of my old boxes)  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:42): anyway i’m not kidding you better not have forgotten park woojin  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:42): i’m holding you to your word  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:42): we good? we good

Who sends seven messages even when nobody responds? Park Jihoon, apparently, Woojin thinks with no shortage of amusement as he types back his answer. After the messages send, it takes Jihoon less than a minute to read them, as shown by the reading stamp that comes with the messages.

woojin who owes jihoon a date (17:48): ctfu you’re too loud i get the point  
woojin who owes jihoon a date (17:48): also you found my crayons? wtf  
woojin who owes jihoon a date (17:48): they don’t even work anymore tho :/  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:49): naw man they work  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:50): _has attached a picture_  
jihoon who still owes a date (17:51): who knows if we’re both satisfied customers we could have our third date coloring robots ;)))  
woojin who owes jihoon a date (17:52): drawing robots…. romance is truly dead

Still, no matter what it is that Woojin writes down on his texts, there’s no denying the widespread smile that only continues to grow once he’s clicked onto Jihoon’s attachment; a drawing made with crayons—on a blank piece of paper, two figures stand next to each other, one of them holding strawberry milk, the other a pack of crayons clutched close to his chest. The both of them are drawn with smiling faces, no matter how much it goes against the sentiments that both had shared against each other, all due to the objects each of them hold. Woojin’s not sentimental, far from it, but there’s something about the drawing that takes him through a tip down memory lane. Of all the times he’d sneaked away with Jihoon’s milk, or the time he’d figured out it was Jihoon who’d taken away his crayons. But, instead of the bitterness that Woojin used to feel at these thoughts, instead, he feels something that isn’t unlike fondness—it doesn’t go to show that he thinks what he, or Jihoon did, was right; but it goes to show that the once terrible memories are now more of childhood stories rather than anything worth feuding about.

woojin who owes jihoon a date (17:54): hey, jihoon? don’t get cocky but i might take up the drawing offer  
woojin who owes jihoon a date (17:55): i bet you’re wiggling your brows behind your phone… loser

(That night, when Woojin sleeps, something feels lighter, maybe even easier; maybe it’s the burden of old grudges being thrown away to the wind, or maybe it’s the feeling of a new beginning.)

**Author's Note:**

> leave behind your thoughts! i also have [twitter](https://twitter.com/uItsdonghyun) and [tumblr](fyodorred.tumblr.com), if you're into that.


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